Wands and a Fez
by FeatheredMask
Summary: Harry is adopted from the Dursleys to be apprenticed. At the age of eleven, he attends a magic school other than Hogwarts.
1. Tu as la magie

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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><p>When he was five, Harry met a very strange lady.<p>

The day he met her went very fast, despite his childish view of seeing time as being very slow. He remembered he was playing in the park at the time. She, looking very much like any of the new mothers gossiping at the edge of the playground, came up to him and handed him a chocolate ice cream, saying,

"You have magic. Would you like to be my apprentice?"

Little Harry nodded, and found himself at the Dursleys' house, his relatives quaking as they signed floating documents. The lady waved a stick - a wand, he later realized - and they looked confused before she waved it again, the action somehow sending them to sleep.

He could still recall the next feeling of being pushed through a tube years later, then the breath of clean magical air as he stared in wonder at the green around him. The walk through the trees seemed endless, and at the same time too quick to comprehend - the first from the enchantment designed to convince travellers to abandon searches and the second from puzzles that sent his young mind spinning. The magical creatures made him wonder if he'd fallen into one of the fairytale books at school. They called to mind _Alice in Wonderland_, save that he had yet to see something normal act out of the ordinary.

Harry felt as if he'd wandered in to the Mad Hatter's house once they reached the mansion of a 'home sweet home', as she called it. Harry's mind whirled as he explored his new home, prodding everything that looked strange and starring at the odd eyeball incorporated into the furniture until it stared back. Nothing made sense in the house, save for her simple explanation of 'magic'.

"Why can I only access the basement from the attic?" he would ask.

"Magic," she would answer.

When he asked, "Why have an eyeball here and not there?"

She answered, "Magic."

On his first week there, she locked him in the library, having a House Elf serve him meals. He wasn't allowed to come out until he finished reading several books she had picked out for him. In that week, he learned much of the wizarding world and how his parents really died. When she let him out, she explained that she hated kids ignorant of their heritage. Harry was still confused why she had him read a book on the proper care of dragons.

It was then she finally gave him something to call her. She never gave him her real name.

She gave Harry a name, too.

The next day she started teaching him about her occupation, that of a Potions Master. He was to apprentice under her, learning her secrets and assisting in her tasks.

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><p>Harry sprinted down the trail, breath coming in ragged gasps, the tiny tassel on his magic-stuck hat waving madly, his long hair threatening to come loose from its tie.<p>

Mentally, he berated himself for thinking that last game of Quidditch wouldn't take long. Now he would be late home, all because he wanted to catch the snitch at least once before the day was over. When he had seen his watch, he'd bolted out of the field, his friends still on their brooms - wait! His broom!

This time he smacked himself. His friends must have thought him an idiot. He hopped on his Cleansweep and watched the trees speed by. Harry grinned. This was much faster.

_Harry went in to that mad house ignorant of why everyone wanted to shake his hand. He came out fully educated on his fame and what it would entail. _

Harry came to the enchanted forest, identifying it by the cape of sparkles that appeared when he squinted. He tried to swerve between the trees, but ended up crashing into one. He cursed himself for forgetting that the forest's magic blocked certain magics, including a broomstick's. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his broom, and resumed running.

_Frightened of the attention and wanting to work to achieve his fame, she set about helping him. She used a potion to correct his eyesight and another to lengthen his hair to tame it. To hide the scar, she soaked a fez hat in a potion to cover his scar when he wore it. He suspected she could do the same with a bracelet or necklace._

At a glade filled with flowers, he picked up a rock, sized it up, and threw it across the flowers to hit a tree. Hearing bark chip off, he repeated the process, hitting a different tree. No sound came back, so Harry raced over, crossing his eyes as he did so. He ran through the tree, appearing in an almost identical clearing, sole difference being the single silver flower in the middle.

_The house was protected by numerous heavy wards, along with the protections of the forest and the creatures that lived there. The creatures and forest often got bored, so anyone wishing to find the house, even if they were part of the Fidelious, would have to bypass complex, bizarre puzzles and illusions. Harry would often wander the forest for hours, lost, until the witch came to retrieve him. _

Harry counted five petals past the closest to him, then took ten steps forward and ten more steps in the direction the petal pointed. He rapped on the closest tree, which returned a solid sound. Five seconds later, he walked through.

A trail of more silver flowers sprouted from the ground as he entered under the protection of the Fidelious. Harry remained tense. It didn't matter if his watch said he had ten minutes before his curfew; it would take twice that long to get to the house.

The flowers stopped at an arch. When he walked through, he appeared in yet another area, among a maze of hedges that went so high they had to be illusions. He came across a variety of creatures and puzzles he had to bypass, and at the same time had to navigate the giant maze that changed every day. He even found himself trapped and had to figure out which spiked wall was the illusion, as the only way out was to throw himself at one of the walls and he didn't feel like being impaled.

_The sentient magic of the forest amused itself by constructing mazes and sending hapless travellers into insanity. The magic found the Potions Master interesting, and so it allowed her and her boy to live there. The witch never minded when the magic played with her home, even welcoming it. _

At last he came to the recognizable structure of home, whooping with joy as he ran to the front door. When the door vanished at his touch, Harry couldn't help but groan. He circled the house three times until he found a door that didn't move or turn into something other than a door.

"Mot de passe?" _("Password?")_ asked the door.

"Password?" Harry parroted. She never had any passwords. However, Harry wouldn't put it past her to assign impromptu passwords that she didn't tell him about. He noticed a flower at his feet and hazarded a guess.

"Fleur argent." _("Silver flower.")_

_When the witch began teaching Harry, she spoke in such a way that convinced him to take everything she said with a grain of salt. He soon realized that was a good thing, as he would have never had any sleep otherwise. For Harry discovered one important detail about her. _

"Parfait." _("Perfect.")_ Harry blinked. it couldn't be that easy, it never was. The door swung open and Harry became aware of a creeping suspicion that he had fallen into a trap. He walked in nonetheless, saying the word to turn on the lights.

Only to find _her_ with a wand at his throat, surrounded by House Elves all carrying sharp pointy weapons.

"Drop the broom and state your name, aliases, titles, date of birth, blood status, purpose here, and who you're working for."

_She was hopelessly paranoid. _

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><p>**Words in French have their translations in italics next to the sentence.<p>

Another fanfiction. Yep. At least it's not another Yu-Gi-Oh crossover. My muse is getting drunk on the writing. It's gone from simply thinking of summaries to thinking up entire chapters.

I have one question for y'all: Who wants some Dumbledore bashing?


	2. Comment dis tu 'Order' en Français?

I don't think I noticed that the last spoken line in the first chapter was in English when I wrote it, but oh well. So I made the rest of that conversation English at the beginning here. I easily lose track of what I'm saying when I write lists in French, anyway. I'm still taking French classes, so expect errors.

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><p>The broom clattered to the floor as Harry rattled off, "Alain Hector Sauvageu, Potions apprentice, apprentice to Silver Heart, May 25, 1981, Half-Blood-" here he hesitated, his tongue twisting around the foriegn words, "-late home after playing Quidditch, Mademoiselle Silver Heart." He knew what to say by now, even if he barely caught on to the exact translation.<p>

The imposing woman stared hard at him for a long while until a House Elf coughed. She waved a hand, and the House Elves dispersed.

"Adequate. Dinner is on the table. I'll be working on Polyjuice Potion."

Harry, now renamed Alain, knew full well she wasn't going to make Polyjuice. It was impossible to make in this house, as every ingredient needed was booby-trapped with spells that were keyed to the rest of the ingredients. No, he would find her brewing Veritaserum. When she had no need of any other potion, she would often brew the truth serum. She enjoyed spiking his food with it.

After a dinner of food analysation, Alain traveled up stairs, through tunnels, past a wall of venomous vines, and evaded a magical trap to finally arrive at the highest point in the tower.

Three times he tapped an engraving of a flower on a decorative vase, then knocked in the bottom right-hand corner of the door he just came through. He swung open the door and walked in to the deepest level of the insane dwelling. He calmly walked down the hall, even whistling a tune as he pulled jars and other containers from the shelves hidden under an illusion of blank stone, occasionally clicking his heels together.

He set the ingredients on a table and released a cauldron from a stasis spell. It resumed bubbling immediately after. Alain added a dash of a flaked material, and it turned a vivid salmon color. He picked up a stainless steel mortar and pestle, tossing in long-dry leaves to grind.

Across the room, another cauldron bubbled innocently, quivering beneath cackling laughter. Alain ignored it for the most part, noting it was a clear liquid as he had predicted.

His own project he considered quite innocent in its purpose. With all the illegal and volatile ingredients scattered around his workspace, many would beg to differ, and then scurry as far away as possible, once he confirmed it was, indeed, experimental.

He only wanted to know what properties his scar had, after a drop of blood from it had burned his hand. It wasn't his fault every known revealing concoction didn't work. He hoped Silver would be kind enough to give him a funeral and tell his friends when one of his creations blew his brains out, unlike how she dealt with her last apprentice.

A sound like a doorbell chimed through the house, ringing out a Christmas carol, despite it being the middle of the summer. Alain promptly returned his cauldron to stasis, and Silver did the same. They went up a one-way passage of stairs, oddly without any odd tricks. This led to a spacious room with comfy chairs around a table by the fireplace. A giant eye stared at them from the mantel. The fireplace flared, a wizard stepping from the green fire.

"Severus!" The shrill cry from behind startled the man, but he recovered in record time after realizing it came from the giant eye. He patted soot from his black robes, turning to the two entering the room.

"Mademoiselle Heart," he said evenly. He nodded at Alain. "Monsieur Sauvageu."

Alain bowed his head. "Monsieur Snape. Bonjour."

Alain waited for both the guest and Silver to sit before sitting down himself. A House Elf was called, and tea was served. After a sip of her drink, Silver broke the silence.

"What is it, Snape? This is not merely a social call, seeing as you forgot to smile on your way in."

Most of Silver's contacts spoke with her in English, a cursed language, if one asked Alain. He had barely spoken English for half his life and only heard it when contacts came for tea, so he concentrated on translating everything.

"No, you are correct." Snape sighed.

"The Boy-Who-Lived is missing. Dumbledore has all of the Order searching for the brat." He tried to sneer at the hyphenated title, but it faded to make him look old and tired. "It's been found that Arabella forgot to deliver her reports to Dumbledore and anything concerning Harry for the past five years. We suspect memory charms and anything ranging from Imperio to suggestion potions. The Dursleys have no recollection of Harry or even of Lily's death." He found the energy to sneer at 'Dursleys'. Alain found it odd to hear his old name said in a sentence in English.

"The most recent memory of Harry that Arabella has is from five years ago. We begin the search tonight. Harry will have undoubtably grown into a different appearance by now." Snape took a sip of his tea, and grimaced.

"Something...more strong?" Alain offered, grasping at his rough comprehension of the language.

"Yes, thank you." Snape didn't bother to change languages, even though it was clear Alain struggled with it.

Alain called for a House Elf and had it bring black coffee for the guest. Snape smiled bitterly at the searing taste. Alain understood that look. One pain to distract from another.

"Dumbledore has requested my assistance?" Alain mentally groaned. He knew Silver was picking difficult words on purpose.

"Hardly," Snape commented in the same dry tone Alain usually heard him with. "He believes you're blind to any going-ons outside of your forest and what I tell you. I need Veritaserum. My stock is only going into the long isolation it needs before I can add the nightshade. I know you always have fresh."

"Who are you planning to question?" Silver asked, neither smiling nor accusing.

"Not as many as you, I'm sure," Snape muttered, in full earshot of both hosts. Louder, at a normal volume, he answered, "Any who the Order members bring me. Since the incident, Dumbledore has contacted Alistor, so it will be quite a few."

Alain found himself stuck on 'Order'. It's definition didn't fit right in that sentence, so now he was wondering what word he mixed it up with. He spent a few minutes puzzling over it, staring into the depths of his tea. When he gave up on account of a headache, Snape and Silver had moved on to another subject and a small box sat on the table.

"Has he received his letter yet?" Snape asked.

"His birthday was in May. He's leaving this fall. I haven't decided between the three."

"If you want someone to keep an eye on him, you know I have a position in Hogwarts." Snape added, "Dumbledore has assured me the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor should Quirrel not want it when he comes back from Albania."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I want him to go somewhere he can understand the teachers." Silver nodded to Alain, who stared at his tea in concentration.

"Translation spells. His parents went to Hogwarts."

"Joyce and Ken have decided not to be an influence on his life, so he may have different interests than them."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Has he taken an interest in my former occupation?"

"He simply wants his education to cover everything and doesn't want to fall asleep in History class. I have made sure he knows the fallacies of the Dark Lord's reign." Silver added softly, "And those of the Order."

Snape raised an eyebrow, no doubt wondering about the meaning. Alain was curious, too. He was certain he heard that word wrong, and intended to find out what it was.

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><p>Short chapter, but hey, at least it's finally posted after so long, right?<p>

Alain: pronounced as Allen, it's just the French spelling. The meaning is unknown, actually, as is its original origin. Hector was a random middle name. So's the last name.

Alain. Yeah. That's his new name. Awesome, ain't it? I might slip up and call him Harry somtime, though. I won't keep calling him by his original name like I do for Sirius in Ouroboros, just for a change of pace, but if you want I can call switch back to Harry.

I kept switching between Master, Mistress, and Mademoiselle for what Harry should call Silver, then just decided on Mademoiselle because the French use too many different words when I try to look it up.

Silver Heart: bit of a blatant self-insert. But, I don't intend for her to be present much, or to be a copy of me. She represents the change I brought to the wizard world. Harry/Alain will be going to school sometime.

EDIT: Spelling and grammar errors have been fixed, finally.


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